A Very Long Wait
by headlesshessian
Summary: Spain is finally home from the wedding of his princess. Romano has some questions about betrothals, especially pertaining to the age requirement. Preslash/little!Romano, but still so fluffy it will give you horrible cavities.


_Takes place very soon after the wedding of Juana de Castile and Phillip Habsburg in 1496. I think I'm taking a few historical liberties with the timeline though, because I think it was only in the early 1500s that S. Italy became an official Spanish colony. I'm also screwing a little with the facts on the betrothal between Juana and Phillip. Yes, I am neurotic about things like this._

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><p>Romano was half-heartedly scrubbing the tiles in Spain's bathroom when two of the older maids walked by, excitedly chattering in rapid Spanish that Romano barely caught. However, when a sentence including the phrase "preparations for Señor Carriedo's return" reached Romano's ears, the Italian abandoned the cloth and water and chased after them, managing to grab the skirts of one in an orange dress.<p>

"_Si_, Romana? Is there something you needed?" she asked, bending down so that they were at eye level.

"_Si!_ Why is everyone so excited this morning, Chabelita?" The small boy in a dress asked politely.

The maid known as Chabelita laughed. "_Señor_ Carriedo is returning this morning, Romanita!" The other maid gestured to her to leave, and with a quick pat on the head, Chabelita straightened up and hurried along. Romano remained still, ruminating on this new knowledge.

Finally, _finally_, his boss was returning. The knowledge gave the young Italian an odd feeling in his stomach, which Romano dismissed quickly as anger. The bastard had taken his sweet time in returning from the wedding , after all, so Romano resolved not to be nice to Spain when the idiot got back to the house.

Well, at least not until Spain had properly atoned for leaving him behind.

As the clattering of horses and carriage wheels drew nearer, however, the Italian abandoned the cleaning of Spain's bathroom completely to run down the stairs and out the front door. Smoothing down the skirt and apron of his red dress, Romano leaned against the sun-warmed banister and waited.

Spain and his party came into view a few minutes later, rounding the bend in a cacophony of shouts, whinnies, and laughter. The nation himself dismounted from a large bay and barked a few orders Romano couldn't hear but assumed pertained to the luggage atop the carriage.

The green-eyed man turned and instantly caught sight of Romano watching the organized chaos. Spain grinned and bounded up the stairs. "_Mi Romanito_, you were waiting for me!" he shouted joyfully. Romano turned as red as his dress.

Spain picked up the smaller boy and spun him around. "_I- idiota__,_" Romano growled, though the effect was diminished by his high voice. He blushed furiously as the nation carried him into the house. "I was just going out to check on the tomatoes," he lied.

"_Sí__, __sí_," Spain laughed, finally setting his colony down. "But it was still nice to have you as the first thing I saw when I came home."

Romano had no response for that. Well, except for kicking Spain in the shins and running away when the nation laughed.

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><p>After an unusually early lunch (noon instead of around three), Spain and Romano set off to inspect the tomatoes as Romano had lied he was going to do earlier. After picking several basketfuls of the ripe ones, the two collapsed in the shade of a nearby orange tree.<p>

"Tell me about the wedding," Romano insisted, taking a bite out of one of the tomatoes and wiping his hand guiltily on the grass when the juices dripped on it.

"You want to hear about the wedding?" Spain asked contemplatively as he took a bite of his own tomato. "What brought this on?"

"I liked Juana," Romano said, looking out over the fields surrounding Spain's house. "She was always nice to me. And she married an Austrian and I know _mi __fratello _lives with Austria like I live with you and so I wondered if you saw him there," he finished in a rush.

Spain laughed. "Well, Juana looked beautiful."

Romano smiled, pleased with this fact. "I'm glad. She deserved to look pretty on her wedding day. What was her dress like?"

Spain looked down at his young charge. "Don't you want to hear the rest first?" At Romano's fervent nods, he continued. "She actually met your brother a little before the ceremony."

Romano's golden eyes widened. "What did she think of him?" he asked, sounding slightly worried. Spain smiled knowingly, hearing the undertones of jealousy in the Italian's voice.

Juana had stooped down, skirts swishing around her form. "You must be the other half of Italia," she had said. Feliciano had smiled winningly at her and behaved charmingly, but after he had left Juana had turned to her nation and bluntly said, "I think Romano has more of a personality."

"_Really?_" Romano practically glowed at the compliment.

"Really," Spain confirmed, draping an arm around his colony and smiling goofily when the Italian didn't shrug it off.

"Well, why didn't she get married earlier?" Romano asked.

"Because she and the prince had to wait for each other to grow up," Spain answered. Before he could ask why, Romano hummed an assent and asked about Juana's dress again. Even when Spain questioned him later, Romano still would say no more on the subject (and once again kicked the nation in the shins again when he continued to ask).

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><p>Hours later, the Italian had fallen asleep next to the Spaniard. As twilight began to encroach on the two, Spain gently picked up Romano and began the walk back to the house.<p>

"_España,_" Romano whispered, clearly half-asleep. Spain was about to coo something along the lines of _tan adorable,_ when Romano blearily opened his eyes and shifted in his arms. "_España_… what you said about waiting for a person to grow up?"

"_Sí, mi Romanito_?" Spain whispered back.

"Will you wait for me to grow up too, _España?_"

Spain stopped in his tracks, a borderline-stupid grin spreading across his face. "I already am, _mi Romanito._"

The Italian in his arms rewarded him with a small, sleepy smile. "_Grazie… __estupido_."

Spain didn't bother to reply-Romano was, once again, asleep.

**-fin-**

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><p>Part of a fic-exchange with a friend. Not much else to say about this except that I looked up Juana and promptly spent the next two hours doodling fashions of that period.<br>Oh, and I listened to "Reunion" from the _Australia_ soundtrack.  
>And Chabelita calls Romano "RomanaRomanita" because he's in a dress and she thinks he's a girl, hence the feminine suffixes.

I own nothing except Chabelita the maid and the disgustingly fluffy plot. If you are so inclined, please review. (especially since this is my first time writing these two...)


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